


The life and times of C-248

by LuckyMiku64



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Backstory, Dimension Travel, Gen, Multichapter, dimension c-248, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-05 01:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyMiku64/pseuds/LuckyMiku64
Summary: Across the multiverse, the Rick and Morty duo has been a consistency throughout it. With such a large scale system in place, it's almost natural for some to be unsatisfied and while many will curl up and decay underneath all the pressure others will fight back and bring revolution.





	1. A cold introduction

“Listen, I don’t care how many fancy folds you put in there, the standard design is the best. That’s why it’s the default!” The redhead said as she brandished her papercraft.  
“P-please,” said the boy, leaning back in his chair his confidence clear. “A pattern c-can always be improved. P-people just stick t-to the most well known because th-they’re lazy.” He was visibly prideful of his project holding it up like an award. The plane was comparable to an arrow wide wings and small tail structure behind it. The folds were extremely neat so much so Summer swears he just stole it off the internet, there's just no way that thing is improvised.  
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”  
She lifted open the glass window of their high school science class. Sure, just the mere act of letting the breeze in was against the rules, but where and when could they have a better airplane battle of superiority? Morty knew this, so he was willing to step up to the plate.  
3, 2, 1 and principles office. But hey, at least Morty’s paper plane went farther.

The two walked through the halls in silence. Summer seemed annoyed at worse, but Morty was horrified. He has lost count on how many times he’s been sent to this academic timeout box -that witch Ms. Mclean likes to abuse the option when she tired of dealing with him which is basically all the time. Surely, by now, this would lead to some sort of phone call. One simple ring and he would face grave consequences at the hands of his parents meanwhile Summer will just get to sit on the couch texting.  
“Soooo...Wanna skip?”  
Morty looked up at his sister then glanced away, his body tightening up. "I-I don't know..." That was easy for her to say. Summer has already gotten three phone calls home and nothing but based on past experience one would be enough for Morty. "Come on, it's the last block and this school has serious communication issues. No one will even notice!" As much as Morty wanted to trust his sister it was easy for her to do things like this, him however not so much. "Wh-what if we-" Summer placed her hand on her brother's shoulder. "We won't get caught. You're running with the coolest girl and town and I'm not the type to get caught. Morty felt his fear slowly melting away with a comforting hand on his shoulder and the overall warm energy his sister gave. With a smile, he gave a nod of approval. 

“You’re like a total dork now, you know that, right? I mean since when do you fall off fences?”  
The teen patched up her brother's minor cuts who had just gracefully feel off of the school’s chain link fence. All he could do was pout and look away, deeply embarrassed and unable to retort with the proper sass. Summer knew this and she just rolled her eyes and smiled.  
“Whatever, man. You’re just lucky that it didn’t tear any of your clothes; you’d be walking evidence for the crime of skipping.” Summer stopped cleaning up cuts to make finger guns. “I’d have to kill you so no one could expose my horrid deeds. Bang, bang.”  
Morty chuckled.  
She smiled again, her mission to cheer him up accomplished. “Come on big guy, we still got drinks to buy. Do your legs still work?”  
Morty leaned against her for some support, regaining balance. “I-I think so. J-just a little - a tiny limp.”  
The two walked off kissing goodbye to the school. All was good. 

Well, besides a bit more teasing from Summer. 

The best part of skipping the last block of school is that it never ends, and as long as the two are home before dinner and there’s no report from the school their parents don’t care. So the two decided to visit a hipster-friendly bubble tea shop. It was full of kids on study blocks, and the line was huge. The redhead sighed as she crossed her arms.  
“This is gonna take awhile. Could you do me a favor, Morty?”  
Morty looked up.  
“Wh-what’s up?”  
“I’m craving donuts because of...reasons. Could you grab a baker’s dozen from the place across the street?” She took a 20 from her purse and handed it to him. “I’ll keep our spot. You want the usual, right?”  
Morty nodded, glad for the excuse to get out of the claustrophobic line. He squeezed his way out and gratefully filled his lungs with fresh air.  
After he was in the clear, he slowed down, walking rather than running. It was a rather nice day, and a breeze flowed through his hair - just enough to cool him but not enough to cause shivering. He headed down the plaza  
He stopped when he heard a small mew.  
Morty looked around, wondering why a cat would be here in a place like this. It wasn’t like any store around here was exactly animal-friendly. Then he saw it. It was a stray cat. It was a cute little critter. Morty wasn’t an expert on cats, but he was pretty sure it was an American shorthair. It had a very nice gray coat.  
But it was in rough shape. It was drenched in muddy water, with raw cuts over its legs, and a much larger cut over its left eye.  
Morty crouched down, extending a gentle hand. He knew he wasn’t supposed to mess with wild animals - they could contain an encyclopedia of diseases - but his heart was winning out over his brain. After all, with all those cuts, one of them has to be infected. This little guy needs to see a vet.  
The cat moved towards the boy slowly. Morty stayed still, a total statue so as not to scare it off. To his a pleasant surprise, it licked him with its sandpaper tongue. However, when Morty lifted his hand to pet it, it ran off. 

_Oh no, you don’t._

He stood up and chased after it. He probably shouldn’t get close to a creature that ate rats or something to survive, but that just made him care more. The cat was incredibly fast on its feet - er, paws - and led him up and down allies behind the plaza shops. Morty was the type who failed P.E. class and was rapidly running out of breath.  
Finally, the cat decided to stop and jumped into some shady garbage. Morty paused, debating whether he really wants to go dumpster diving for a cat. He glanced down. It wasn’t like he was wearing anything special, just his usual yellow shirt and blue pants. And he was going home right after this so, why not?  
He rolled up his sleeves, pulled up his pants, and marched toward the dumpster. That little kitty was seeing a vet whether it liked it or not!  
The dumpster was too tall for him to reach. He grabbed a nearby cardboard box and tried to use it as a stool. It promptly flattened under his body weight.  
This could take awhile.  
After a bit of trial and error, he found some boxes that would hold him and piled them up. He started shoving empty cans and trash bags of mush around, looking for the cat. The smell alone was enough to make him gag. There was animal blood and swarms of insects. Aw geez, this was the butcher shops dumping ground wasn’t it? That’s why everything smelled rotten - it literally was. He fought the urge to quit. He’d come too far to give up now. There was just one thing he had to say to himself to keep him going, It never hurts to help. Then felt something. He thought it’s the cat and grabbed it - but he knew something was wrong once it started pulling him in.  
He fought it, survival instincts kicking in. Open tin cans sliced his arms as he was slowly dragged into the waste. The meat blood made him slippery, though, and whatever it was dropped him. He fell back out of the hole of rubbish. He scrambled to his feet - and something emerged from the trash.  
He grabbed the lid of a trash can and shielded himself just in time. A beer bottle nailed the lid and spun away. The man who had thrown it had hauled himself half-out of the trash. He had rotting teeth, strands of stringy hair, and grimy clothes. He was screaming nonsense words, but there was terrifying fury in his eyes, his face, his voice. He threw rancid meats at Morty, chucking them so hard they hit his makeshift shield and made his arm ache. Cow guts and bloody juice spattered over his clothes.  
Finally, he dodged away and bolted, dropping his makeshift shield on the ground. He could hear the man screaming after him, and when he glanced over his shoulder the man was chasing him with a broken bottle!  
“Oh fuck, aw geez! AW GEEZ!” 

Morty shoved through the plaza crowds. People stare at him until they see what’s chasing him - and then they start running, too. He looked around frantically. People were hurrying to lock their shops, but he had to hide somewhere, he couldn’t keep running like this!  
Eventually, he saw the donut shop with a line now spilling outside. He forced his way in and jumped over the counter, racing to the back. People yelled at him but started yelling for a whole new reason when the maniac burst in.  
Morty found a walk-in freezer - the best shield he could get. He ran in, shut the door, and locked it behind him. He leaned against, it shivering.  
From that point on time seemed to freeze. He just sat there, rubbing his arms, praying that the lunatic wouldn’t find him. He heard screaming, swearing, bottles being broken. Chaos. Guilt starts to creep up on him. He’d lead that lunatic here, and now innocent people were getting hurt because of him.  
But he was still too much of a coward to do anything about it. He stayed on the cold floor, drowning in guilt and shame.  
Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much. He heard sirens. He slowly opened his eyes. It was a bad idea to fall asleep in a freezer. He could see red and blue flashing against the walls. The police. If they were here, it must be safe now, right?  
Morty stood up, light-headed, barely able to organize his thoughts. He opened the door and stumbled out, shivering violently. He collapsed onto the ground. Two officers rushed up to him.  
Morty ended up being driven home in the back of a cop car, wrapped in a warm blanket, his sister holding his cold body close and wiping dried blood off his skin.


	2. The bum on our couch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being attacked Morty is drained and all he could think of is getting home to rest. However, that plan is thrown out the window when this strange old man who turns out to be Beth's dad suddenly invades their home expecting to move in. Throwing the family for a loop and kids are left unsure if they should embrace or resist this change.

“You kids be safe now,” the officer ordered, parking in front of the Smith house.  
“We will, thank you.”  
Summer gently guided Morty from the car. The world was just kind of blank for him - the neighborhood homes registered only as shapes and colors, the sky was a thick black blanket, sounds all ran together. He couldn’t really tell where he was. The warm pressure of his sister’s hands was the only thing that felt real.  
After some small talk with the officer, Summer walked them into the house. She kept apologizing, as if the situation was all her fault. Morty knew it wasn’t. She was just saying that because she felt badly for him. And because it forestalled a much more terrifying question:  
_What will mom and dad think?_  
They stopped at the front door. She looked over at Morty, waiting for an okay. He managed to nod.  
She opened it. 

Light poured from the house. Morty kicked off his shoes, more from habit than from conscious attention. Summer paused, confused. She heard voices. Not just their parents’ voices, either. Then came what sounded like laughter.  
Guests? At this hour?  
They walked into the living room. Their mom was chatting it up with a stranger, while Jerry sat in the comfy chair with his arms crossed, bitter as a lemon.  
And the stranger -  
He was like no one they’d ever seen. His skin was a sickly gray color, and teal hair spiked and drooped all over his head - even his unibrow was teal. He wore a sweater that matched his hair along with tacky brown pants, suspenders, and ink-black shoes.  
Summer and Morty looked at each other as if to ask, _Do you know this guy?_ But neither of them did. He was definitely making their mom happy, though.  
Summer stepped forward. “Mom? Dad? Who is this?”  
Their mother finally noticed them. She smiled - the warmest, brightest smile they’d seen for a while.  
“Morty, Summer you’re back! You won’t believe it but I’d like you to meet my dad!”  
The man looked at them and waved, smiling weakly.  
Summer stared. “...This is it?”  
“W-w-what’s wrong with his skin?” Morty asked.  
“What’s with the hair?”  
“He h-has a unibrow”  
“Is he drooling?”  
“Kids!” Beth snapped. “I can’t believe you two! I mean how could you even -”  
“Beth, sweetie,” the man cut in. “It’s o-okay, they’re - they’re kids and th-they never met me. I expected something along th-these lines.”  
Beth actually stopped talking, which the two teens found more shocking than the unibrow. 

The man - their grandfather, apparently - went over and knelt down so he could meet their eyes. “M-my name is R-Rick Sanchez of...your family! I-I know I haven’t r-really been a part of your lives, but I’d l-like to change that.”  
They didn’t know what to think. They only knew they had a grandfather at all because of Beth’s drunken rambling, which never put him in a positive light. But this guy seemed...friendly? Had their mom just been playing victim this whole time? After all, even she had looked happy to see him a few minutes ago. This guy looked like he’d struggle to open an envelope!  
Rick extended his hand to shake. Summer took it automatically. It was a limp hand, and as soon as he let go she wiped the old-people germs on her pants. He offered the same hand to Morty, but he jerked back and huddled in his blanket.  
He didn’t want them to see the flecks of blood underneath.  
Rick looked confused, but he only nodded and stood up. Maybe his grandson was just germaphobic?  
Jerry cleared his throat loudly. “So, Rick. You’ll probably want to get back to wherever you’re staying before it gets much later.”  
“Actually, I-I was hoping I-I could crash here for a bit”  
“What?!”  
Summer and Jerry had shouted simultaneously. They glanced at each other, in perfect agreement. Their grandpa just shows up then wants to bum around like it’s nothing?  
“I’m not giving him my room,” Morty said.  
All four of them stared at him. Morty’s tone had been dark, his nervous stutter gone. Exactly how many more surprises were in store tonight?  
Beth shot him a scathing look. “Morty, last time I checked, it’s not exactly your house, is it?”  
“I-I always give up my room! E-e-every fucking time! It’s not fair!” Morty’s face was red with anger, but his voice trembled like he was on the brink of tears. “For Christ’s sake, Morty, does it really kill you to just sleep on the couch!?”  
“I-it’s not just that mom! I-it’s everything else! W-why am I always the one getting t-the short end of the stick?!”  
“Everytime a-a guest shows up _I_ give up _my_ room, _I_ clean up after m-messes they make, _I_ give everything because _y-y-you_ say so! It's not fair!”  
Summer stared at him. Normally he bottled up his anger until he could go to his room and scream into a pillow. She realized this was probably an emotional reaction to the afternoon’s traumas - and the return of the Bedroom Wars wasn’t helping his state of mind.  
Beth was on her feet now, yelling even louder. “That’s it! Go to your room!”  
“FINE! I-I’LL GO T-TO _MY_ ROOM A-AND LAY ON _M-MY_ BED A-AND...TOUCH MY THINGS!”  
He stormed up the stairs. The room fell deathly silent.  
Summer’s eyes flicked over Rick, then back to the floor. “I’ll, um. I’m going to talk to him.” She headed past the group and up the stairs.  
Behind her, she heard Rick speak up again. “Beth, a-a moment please?” 

There were two knocks on the door. Morty raised his head from his pillow.  
“G-go away.”  
“Morty, it’s me.” Summer’s voice was soft, gentle. The same tone she used for him when he got overstimulated in crowds, or that time he fell off his bike and needed a ride to the hospital. Instantly his body relaxed.  
He dropped his face back into the pillow. “...C-come in.”  
Summer opened the door and pulled up the chair from Morty’s study desk, plopping down on it next to his bed. “Hey, buddy...How do you feel? Y-you know, after all this?”  
Morty answered by throwing off the police blanket. “How d-do I feel? Th-they didn’t even notice! They d-didn’t even ask!” He gestured to the stains on his clothes. “D-do they even care?! H-how?! How could they not? W-why, why don’t th-they see these things!?” Tears slid down his face. He couldn't even understand himself right now. How could he fear confrontation and crave it at the same time? If his parents found out there would be hell to pay but at least would have cared enough to punish him. He was shivering violently. He felt like he was right back in the freezer, holding his breath, praying for it to be over. Summer leaned forward and pulled him close, wrapping him in a warm embrace. Normally, she knew, Morty didn’t like sudden movements, but it was instinctive - she just knew he needed it.  
Morty hugged her back, proving her right, and silently cried into her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit overdue. I'm sorry guys I wanted to get this out sooner but summer is busy especially when you go to conventions, but hey at least it's here now. I hope it was worth the wait. I just wanted to say thank you to AwesomeMango7 and KettleDewller for enjoying the story! You're comments mean a lot to me, thank you for reading.


End file.
